


Is She or Isn't She?

by SilverCowGirl



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, The Tottenham Pub (Cormoran Strike)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCowGirl/pseuds/SilverCowGirl
Summary: Just a small thing that came to my mind.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Is She or Isn't She?

It was Friday night and Strike was feeling sorry for himself at the Tottenham. He’d looked forward all week to the usual drinks with his partner and at the last instant, it seemed, she’d texted him to say something had come up and she wasn’t going to make it to what had become almost a traditional way to end their workweek. It had been too late to ask Barkley and he knew Nick and Ilsa had other plans, so here he was, just starting on his third pint and shot of whiskey, sitting by himself near the back of the pub. He’d just begun to notice the slight buzz that was overtaking him when his attention was caught by a movement at the door.

He idly watched for a split second before his attention became riveted. The woman who had entered from the cold was quite tall and had shiny black curls in short cap-style cut. Her back was turned toward him as she shook the snow off her black trenchcoat and shrugged it off, revealing one creamy white shoulder, the other covered by a blood-red silk. His heart beat a little faster and his body gave a little jolt when he noted the small heart-shaped cutout low on the back of the woman’s frock. His eyes continued to wander down over a generous derriere and his eyebrows couldn’t help but rise a little as he noted the brief skirt hugging her thighs, followed by that looooong stretch of legs. Slim ankles with red straps gave way to seductive 4 inch heels. 

She hung her coat on the rack near the door and quickly rubbed her upper arms with a shiver as she tried to warm herself. He watched her smile at the barkeep with ruby red lips before she picked up the glass with two shots of amber liquid and turn toward him. He was struck by her brilliant green eyes and the tiny mole near the corner of her upper lip did something to his nether regions. His eyes were glued to her body as she slowly made her way toward him, asking in a sultry voice with a quite cultured British accent, “Mind if I sit down?”

“No, it’s good,” he mentally gave himself a shake and took a gulp of his drink to wet his mouth. There was something about her that reminded him, but she interrupted his thoughts.

“Mmmm…,” as she took a long sip of her drink, “Cold enough out to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

Strike’s eyebrows climbed as he gave her a slow grin. “Colder’n a witch’s tit.” 

She smirked back at him, set her glass down and reached with one long-tipped red fingernail to trail it across his hand and up his arm. His heart began to beat double-time as he realized the possibilities. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to complicate his life just now. He long held out hope for when Robin was available, so a one-night stand hadn’t been in the cards for a long time. Which was precisely the problem. It had been more than two very long years since he’d been with a woman and here was a very beautiful one presenting herself, bold, beautiful, and sizzling with sex appeal. But something about her niggled at his memory. He felt inexorably drawn to her, while at the same time blocked to take any action beyond words. 

She’d said something, but he missed it, “Sorry?” caught up in an internal struggle. She quirked her finger at him, motioning for him to lean in closer. When he did so, she shortened the distance, nuzzling near his ear – sending an immediate response to his body, before she whispered, “I could warm you up.” 

_Bollocks!_ was his internal reaction. Just then her lips brushed down his cheek and she gave a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. Alarm bells were going off in his head as some vague hint at a memory crossed his mind. He chastised himself as he drew back, unable to answer right away. “Ahhhh…I’ve a call I must make. S’about work,” desperately trying to buy himself time and not look like the jackass he knew he was being. 

Rising she asked, “Another drink?” and moved toward the bar. 

He fished his phone from the pocket of his jacket and without conscious thought hit the button to call Robin. As he waited for it to start ringing, the thought flashed through his mind _Who’r’you gonna call besides your best mate?_ Also, he had no idea what he was going to say. 

He abruptly swung his eyes toward the woman in red, the wind knocked out of him, as they both heard her phone start ringing and she gave him a guilty smile. Answering it, she asked, “Strike?”

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me while I was thinking that Robin is so good at disguises, I wonder if she could fool Strike.


End file.
